When I was little, I played an inordinate amount of Car Simulators which we could charitably refer to as “games”. These days I could drive a real car if I wanted to (I typically don’t), so the genre’s lost most of its luster.
R4, however, now THAT’S something I can call a racing game. The notion of automobile racing isn’t much more than a pretext for its kinesthetic virtuosity. You tap the brakes while turning and instantly turn 90 degrees while nearly maintaining your speed. You bump into an opponent in the final stretch and both of your cars fly away from each other like a child throwing a hot wheels across their bedroom. Every other car in the race jets out ahead of you at Mach 2 at the start only to slow down to a light jog, speeding back up to the same clip as you when you get close.
It’s giddily surreal; you’re not playing as someone driving a car, but someone daydreaming about doing so. It’s easier to say you like that sort of game than it is to even comprehend how to make one. Behind the scenes at Namco, some probably-underpaid systems designers painstakingly tweaked to perfection every little variable controlling the accelerations which make up that Sweet, Sweet Friction. That is to say, at least by 1999 videogames had come absolutely fucking nowhere since Pac-Man.
Of course, this would all feel sort of sterile if not for its similarly remarkable presentation. It’s got the most delightful UI I’ve seen in any game not named “Persona 5”, a soundtrack so legendary even JPEGMAFIA has sampled it, and its low-poly style oozes with charm to this day. Even the writing is pleasantly surprising, being at least as enjoyable as a sports movie you’d put on in the background while doing something else. Your coach goes through one of a few slightly different character arcs depending on how well you do in each of the campaign races, and there’s enough dialogue written that this always provides a cohesive storyline more or less unique to your performance (in my experience, anyways).
I understand why someone might be looking at these reviews skeptical of the unanimous praise heaped on this game, but my god dude it really is just that good.
R4, however, now THAT’S something I can call a racing game. The notion of automobile racing isn’t much more than a pretext for its kinesthetic virtuosity. You tap the brakes while turning and instantly turn 90 degrees while nearly maintaining your speed. You bump into an opponent in the final stretch and both of your cars fly away from each other like a child throwing a hot wheels across their bedroom. Every other car in the race jets out ahead of you at Mach 2 at the start only to slow down to a light jog, speeding back up to the same clip as you when you get close.
It’s giddily surreal; you’re not playing as someone driving a car, but someone daydreaming about doing so. It’s easier to say you like that sort of game than it is to even comprehend how to make one. Behind the scenes at Namco, some probably-underpaid systems designers painstakingly tweaked to perfection every little variable controlling the accelerations which make up that Sweet, Sweet Friction. That is to say, at least by 1999 videogames had come absolutely fucking nowhere since Pac-Man.
Of course, this would all feel sort of sterile if not for its similarly remarkable presentation. It’s got the most delightful UI I’ve seen in any game not named “Persona 5”, a soundtrack so legendary even JPEGMAFIA has sampled it, and its low-poly style oozes with charm to this day. Even the writing is pleasantly surprising, being at least as enjoyable as a sports movie you’d put on in the background while doing something else. Your coach goes through one of a few slightly different character arcs depending on how well you do in each of the campaign races, and there’s enough dialogue written that this always provides a cohesive storyline more or less unique to your performance (in my experience, anyways).
I understand why someone might be looking at these reviews skeptical of the unanimous praise heaped on this game, but my god dude it really is just that good.